


Repeated Impressions

by gveret



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 18:39:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16180904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gveret/pseuds/gveret
Summary: Lena is meeting her girlfriend's foster mom for the first time, and she's not nervous at all whatsoever. What a notion.





	Repeated Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt: _Kara and Lena take their first vacation together_

 

Lena had always imagined their first vacation to be to Cairo, or Rome, or even Istanbul. Somewhere with a deep history or unique architecture. But she supposed, to Kara, who measured travel by light years rather than miles, there was little difference between Shanghai and Midvale.

But, oh, it was fine. Rather than a relaxing, romantic experience somewhere faraway where her face was less recognizable, Lena was going to meet her lover’s foster parent. Which was just fine with her, of course. If there was ever a thing Lena had a perfect track record with, it was mother figures.

“Lena.” Kara placed her hand on Lena's thigh. “She's going to love you.” She squeezed. “And if she doesn't love you, she’ll at least tolerate you.”

Lena let out a laugh. “Thank you for the reassurance.”

“Cuz _I_ love you,” Kara continued. She took away her hand and swung one leg over Lena's thighs to replace it.

Lena pulled on Kara's hip to tug her halfway into her lap, rearranging her in a way that was sure to cause Lena’s legs and ass to fall asleep within the hour, but it made Kara giggle, so screw the consequences.

She wrapped her arms securely around Kara and settled in for the rest of their train ride.

If Kara had gone by herself she could probably have flown. But Supergirl carrying Kara Danvers’ girlfriend all the way to Kara Danvers’ home town might have been a tad suspicious.

By the time they reached Eliza's home, Lena's entire lower body had indeed descended into pins and needles. She tried to discreetly rub feeling back into the back of her thighs as Kara knocked on the door.

The door swung open abruptly, and Lena rushed to remove her hands from her ass. Feeling caught out, she crossed her arms over her chest, then immediately uncrossed them, struggling to recall the basics of body language.

Meanwhile, Kara exclaimed and jumped to embrace Eliza tightly.

“It's so good to see you,” came Kara's hug-muffled voice.

“It's been far too long,” Eliza agreed.

Kara stepped back and touched Lena's elbow. “Lena, my foster mom, Eliza.” She turned to Eliza and said, surprisingly formal, “Eliza, um, please meet the woman I love.”

Lena had to cough to clear the inopportune lump in her throat at those words.

“Hello, Lena,” said Eliza, and moved to step forward.

Hug or handshake? Hug or handshake?

_Be cool,_ Lena told herself frantically.

“Lena Luthor. Pleasure.” She held out her hand.

Miscalculation. Eliza was clearly going for the hug.

They engaged in an awkward dance that resolved in a contorted sort of mutual pat on the back. Two minutes into the encounter, and Lena was ready to sink into bed with a face mask and headphones and the resolution to never have another interpersonal interaction again.

“Please, come in,” Eliza said, as if Lena hadn't just irrevocably lost her right to be welcomed into anyone's home ever.

Kara pinched her waist. “Relax,” she mouthed. Lena could only give her a helpless shrug.

Eliza showed them to the living room, where a number of chairs faced a long sofa.

_Now what?_ Should she sit? Was the ability to stand up for prolonged periods of time a desirable trait in a daughter's significant other? If so, Lena was already failing.

“Kara, could you get us some drinks?” said Eliza. “I'll give Lena the tour.”

Kara waved to Lena cheerfully and went into the kitchen. Lena sifted desperately through memories of Luthor networking lessons as she followed after Eliza.

Eliza's home was generic to the point of being literally unremarkable. “You have a lovely home, Dr. Danvers,” Lena brazenly lied. Grasping for a polite comment to make, she gestured at the windows. “I, uh, love your drapes.”

“Oh? I don't really care about decor and all that,” Eliza said dismissively.

Lena privately noted that she had made no comment about Lena's use of the honorific. _Message received,_ she thought, straightening her back until she felt a slight twinge.

This was going well.

“This was Alex’s old room,” Eliza was saying. “You know Alex?”

“I do.”

“What do you think of her?”

Lena exhaled. Finally, a subject she could compliment sincerely. “Loyal to a fault,” was the first thing that sprang to mind. “Determined, caring, overly self effacing perhaps. It's clear that awkward charm and selflessness run in the family.”

Eliza snorted. “Never thought of _Alex_ as selfless,” she said. “Well. It's good you get along, I suppose.”

Lena felt herself bristle. _Certainly more selfless than you or I,_ she wanted to say. But normal families liked to tease each other harmlessly, didn't they? Not every unflattering comment was meant to belittle or control.

They finished the house tour, joined Kara in the kitchen and accepted mugs of hot cocoa. Trust Kara to make the best possible choice when asked for unspecified _drinks._

“So, Dr. Danvers, I heard from Kara that you've been developing a multipurpose vaccine with extraterrestrial immune systems in mind,” Lena tried. “We’re introducing a new alien-safe hypodermic needle next quarter, if you'd be interested in a—”

“I don't think it's a good idea for us to do business together,” Eliza interrupted bluntly.

Lena swallowed her instinctive retort. Kara was nodding as if this made perfect sense to her, so Lena tried not to jump to conclusions.

Kara took it upon herself to carry the conversation for the next several minutes, and Lena silently sipped her cocoa and tried to find an appropriate place to join the discussion. Every time she gathered the will to speak up, however, the conversation had already moved on.

“Lena,” Eliza said abruptly after a four minute dissertation by Kara on the superiority of mutts. “A word, please.”

Lena glanced at Kara, who held up two thumbs and mouthed _You got this_ but offered no helpful objection. Her jaw worked.

“Of course.”

Eliza herded her into her office. “In here. You can sit in my chair.”

_My chair_ needed no clarification; there was only the one. Lena worked very hard on refraining from clenching her jaw as she sat, looking up at a very much still standing Dr. Danvers, Alien Girlfriend’s Foster Mom.

“You seemed nervous today,” Eliza observed neutrally.

“Oh, I—uh—” Lena immediately regretted opening her mouth. “Sorry.”

“Hm,” said Eliza.

“I don’t mean to—You seem perfectly nice,” Lena blabbered. “I assure you, my intentions toward Kara—”

Eliza waved her hand. “I don't care about that. Kara's an adult. If she gets her heart broken, that's a part of life. She would live, and grow to exceed you in every way.”

Eliza’s gaze was calm and unwavering, and Lena found herself unable to look away. She felt observed, assessed, without any idea as to the results.

“I agree,” she said quietly.

Eliza nodded. “Likewise, I don't care about your politics, or your media presence, or your taste in interior design,” she continued. “I care about one thing. Do you know what it is?”

“Whether—whether I can make Kara happy?”

Eliza made a noncommittal sound. “I’ll trust you with that,” she said, not sounding entirely convinced.

“Then—?”

“Kara loves you,” said Eliza. Lena knew this, of course, but the matter-of-fact words were jarring somehow, coming from her. “This is why she brought you here. She wants you to be part of our family. Do you want the same thing?”

Did Lena want the same thing? To be linked to Kara in the way most profound to her, to have a family that she can be unreservedly proud of, to be part of something beautiful?

“Yes,” Lena said, trying not to make the unspoken _duh_ too conspicuous.

“Then you are,” Eliza said simply. “Go help Kara set the table. And don't call me Dr. Danvers ever again. You'll both be here for Passover, won't you? Bring some appetizers. Grain-free, you remember.”

Before she quite realized what she was doing, Lena was out of the chair and on the tip of her toes, arms around Eliza Danvers. Eliza reciprocated easily, without a hint of hesitation, her grip tight and steady. Another thing that seemed to run in the family.

“Oh, I thought you might just be a standoffish ass,” Eliza observed over Lena’s shoulder. “Now I'll have to reevaluate my analysis.”

Lena let out a slightly wet laugh. “Thank you.” She was aiming for sardonic and accidentally landed on sincere.

Eliza pulled away with the classic shoulder squeeze and eyed Lena like she knew every one of her secrets. “We should get back before Kara suspects me of assassinating _the woman she loves_.” Her approximation of Kara's dreamy, painfully earnest tone was quite good, really.

Lena decided to file her away as _mom who enjoys affectionately making fun of her kids._ Also under _gives good hugs_ and _does not observe small talk etiquette._

Not altogether an uncharming person, in all honesty.

Back in the kitchen, Kara was humming to herself and munching on a bag of dry granola. Kara feeling at home was truly the most absurd, emotionally fulfilling sight.

Lena surreptitiously wiped at her eyes and sidled up to her. “Eliza enlisted me to set the table for dinner.”

Kara turned to her. “Are you crying?” she whispered loudly.

“No,” Lena told her. And sniffled.

Kara wrapped an arm around Lena's hip, hand dipping down to give her ass a firm squeeze. Lena laughed breathlessly.

“I'm glad you're here,” Kara murmured, putting down the granola and handing Lena a stack of very ugly placemats.

Lena glanced from the placemats to the fridge, littered with Nature magazine clippings, precariously magnetized stacks of bills, and a single tiny cut off photo booth picture of teenaged Alex and Kara making silly faces.

Nevermind Cairo or Rome or Istanbul. There was truly no other place she'd rather be.

  


 


End file.
